


Feeling Hawkish, Darling? (Remix of Are You Sulking Again)

by Fullmetalcarer



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Bird to man, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Crack, Erik is Crushing Harder than a 12-year Old Girl, Fluff, M/M, Man to bird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-19 21:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11322402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fullmetalcarer/pseuds/Fullmetalcarer
Summary: Charles awoke to find a huge hawk in the bedroom and no Erik.  But the hawk's mind felt strangely familiar.  A mind fixated on fish, mating, eggs and Charles.AKA: What if Erik was the birb?





	Feeling Hawkish, Darling? (Remix of Are You Sulking Again)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thacmis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thacmis/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Are You Sulking Again](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5255081) by [InkEros (thacmis)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thacmis/pseuds/InkEros). 
  * In response to a prompt by [thacmis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thacmis/pseuds/thacmis) in the [xmen_remix_madness2017](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/xmen_remix_madness2017) collection. 



> Go read Thacmis' story, it's so sweet <3

Charles opened his eyes. It was a Sunday morning. He was pretty sure he could persuade Erik to come back to bed for a lie in with a combination of Puppy EyesTM and lazy sex. He sat up. Something feathery crashed into his face and squawked and flapped. Charles shrieked and ducked under the covers. The thing scrabbled at the sheets then everything went quiet. Charles cautiously poked his head out from under the duvet. A huge hawk was sitting on the back of the chair, head on one side, staring at him.

"Erik!"

No response.

Erik!

No response, yet he could feel Erik's mind close by. Except it felt different. Erik's mind was always fiercely focused, but now it felt extra fierce and extra focused and, somehow, simpler.

"Erik!" Erik!

The hawk swooped off the chair - shit, its wings seemed huge in the confined space of the bedroom - and landed on the foot of the bed. Charles scrambled away from it and called for Erik again with voice and mind. He seemed nearer. The bird called harshly and hopped closer to Charles, who pressed himself against the headboard. This was weird. Erik seemed so close now, but where was he? Charles called again. The hawk called back.

A truly ridiculous idea was forming in his head. He could feel the minds of higher animals, but he couldn't understand them or control them. He reached out mentally to the bird. Its mind felt familiar and yet totally different. Human, yet animal. Struggling to form homo sapiens thoughts with an avian brain.

"Oh my god, Erik, it's . . . it's you!"

Erik flapped his wings and shrieked.

"Don't worry, darling, we'll fix this. You'll be back to yourself in no time. I know just who to talk to."

Stay calm, Charles, stay calm, stay calm for your hawk husband.

Charles phoned Hank while Erik paced, well, hopped around the bed.

"Hank, you're not going to believe this, but Erik seems to have turned into a bird, some sort of hawk or falcon or eagle or something. I'm going to need your help and the resources of the lab to fix this."

There was a long silence.

"Oh, heck, oh, darn it to heck! I'm so sorry. It was an accident. Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry. I spilled a new serum in the lab. I'm so, so sorry. I thought I'd cleaned it all up, but when you visited the other day you must have been contaminated, then transferred it to Erik. Oh, darn, darn, tarnation and double darn. It only effects mutants and not even all of them, that must be why you're OK. It's based on Raven's DNA. I was interested in why she never shifted into animal form. Oh, dear me, oh, deary, deary me."

All sorts of questions about conservation of mass bubbled up in Charles' head. No, this was neither the time nor the place.

"I'm not angry, Hank, it was an accident. But please, please tell me this isn't permanent?"

"Oh, gosh no. It'll wear off in a few days. There are no aftereffects."

Charles felt a massive surge of relief. He hung up on Hank's apologies.

"It's alright, darling. Just a few days and you'll be your lovely self again."

He projected calm at the bird. It didn't seem to do a lot of good.

hungry, hunger, hungry

Erik was always cranky if he didn't get breakfast. Charles scrambled into jeans and a sweatshirt. Erik watched him in a decidedly familiar fashion. Charles hadn't realised a bird could leer.

They experimented with the contents of the fridge. Fruits and vegetables were out. Anything with that beak and those claws wasn't a vegetarian. Erik wasn't interested in carbohydrates either. He happily pecked at some turkey ham. But it was the tuna steaks, tonight's dinner, that really floated his boat. While Erik tore into the raw fish, Charles googled birds of prey.

"Oh, look darling, you're an osprey. No wonder you liked the tuna."

Erik flapped onto his shoulder, a chunk of tuna in his beak. Charles couldn't help flinching slightly at having his beak and talons so close. Erik gripped his shoulder very carefully and pressed his head against Charles' cheek and made a surprisingly soft noise. Charles felt a little ashamed at thinking Erik would hurt him.

They discovered many interesting facts about ospreys:

  * They mated for life - "Just like us, darling." Erik crooned in his ear. 
  * They were endangered in some parts of the world - Erik made an angry sound - but not in America. 
  * They ate medium sized fish, both marine and fresh-water, and would soar over 70 metres above the water to locate them, before plunging into a nearly vertical dive. 
  * They flew south for the winter - "You always did like the warm weather." 
  * They had a number of specialist adaptions to suit their piscivorous lifestyle, including reversible outer toes - "Mmm, flexibility is a good thing." 



They spent the rest of the day mooching around the apartment. They had a bit of a contretemps when Erik crapped on the sofa. And the carpet. And a green sweater of Charles' that Erik had never liked.

"For gods sake, Erik, use the bathroom."

The sight of an osprey perched on the edge of a commode and looking excessively sulky was one Charles would never forget.

They sat on the sofa together, Erik perched on the back, and watched TV. They ended up watching angling programmes, because Erik got bored and took off round the room if Charles put anything else on. Every now and then Erik would flap over to the TV and tap his beak on the screen when a particularly large fish was featured.

At bedtime Erik nestled himself onto the pillow next to Charles head. When Charles woke up in the morning, Erik had draped a protective wing over him. It was really rather sweet. What wasn't so sweet was that he'd shredded the extremely expensive pillow with his talons.

"That was goose down, Erik, hypoallergenic goose down."

Erik looked grumpy and pooped on the duvet.

"Erik!"

Charles called in sick. He couldn't be bothered to even begin to explain the situation. The university had enough trouble with his mutant status as it was.

They had breakfast, Erik finishing off the tuna.

"What now?"

trapped, want to get out, want to fly

"Hmm, I'm not sure that's such a good idea, but we could go out onto the balcony."

Charles opened the balcony doors. Erik flew onto the handrail and looked at Charles pleadingly.

fly, fly, fly

"Oh, alright, just a quick circle round and back, OK?"

Erik nodded and took off. He really was impressive, graceful, yet powerful. He soared and swooped and looped the loop.

Charles laughed. "Now you're just showing off."

Erik plummeted downwards and disappeared round the corner of the building.

"Erik! Erik!" shrieked Charles.

He ran out of the apartment, down the stairs - he couldn't wait for the elevator - and three times round the block. No sign of Erik. He walked a few more blocks. Nothing. He trudged back home, red faced, breathless and on the verge of tears. He felt a familiar mind. He sprinted up the stairs, all five flights, and burst into the apartment. Erik was sitting nonchalantly on the balcony handrail.

"Erik, thank god. I was so worried. I thought you might have got lost, or shot - so many people in New York have guns - or landed and been run over, or trapped by pest controllers, or - "

He stopped.

"What is that?"

Erik flew over and landed at Charles' feet. He deposited a dead and bloody pigeon on top of his Tod's loafers. Charles jumped back.

"But . . . but you eat fish."

not for me, for you, feed you, feed mate, you eat bird, you like eat bird

Charles suddenly remembered eating chicken for dinner (Erik had had the tuna).

"Well, that's lovely of you darling, but I'm not really hungry and even if I was, I wouldn't want that."

It shouldn't have been possible for what was basically a small eagle to look like a tiny, starved, rain-sodden, bedraggled sparrow, but Erik managed it.

In the end Charles had to pantomime eating the pigeon - "Mmm, yum, yum!" - before disposing of it when Erik lost interest. Luckily, being a bird, he had a short attention span. Charles scrubbed his hands red raw.

He ordered a vast quantity of sushi for dinner. Erik threw the rice on the floor - he'd always had shocking table manners despite all Edie's best efforts - and gorged on the fish. Charles had a small green salad.

The next day Erik went stir crazy. He flew round the apartment, knocking things over - "No, Erik, not the Sèvres bomboniere!" - and crapping everywhere. He kept bashing into the balcony window.

fly, fly, let me out, fly

"OK, fine, but I'm going with you. We'll go to the park and you've got to promise to stick with me."

Charles made himself a DIY gauntlet by taping a cushion to his forearm. They went down in the elevator, Charles feeling like a prince of the blood with Erik perched on his arm. They walked to the park, well, Charles walked, Erik rode in style. They attracted quite a bit of attention. As soon as they got into the park, Erik took off. Mindful of Charles' instructions, he stayed within view. He zoomed up, he plunged down, he swept by so close his wingtip brushed Charles' hair, he flew in great circles and then came back to land on Charles' arm.

They soon attracted a crowd. Erik was a bit offish with the adults, but sat calm and quiet and still for the children.

I've always thought you'd make a wonderful father. We must fill those adoption papers in.

yes, mating season, Charles lay eggs, Charles brood eggs, Erik feed Charles, eggs hatch chicks, chicks fledge and fly, yes, yes

Hmm, yes, something like that.

Erik's human brain was enjoying all the attention he was getting - vain bugger - but his bird brain was getting a bit flustered. Charles took him off to a quiet corner of the park and they settled under an ancient oak tree, Charles sitting propped up against the trunk, Erik sitting on one of the lower branches. Charles felt his eyelids begun to droop.

"I'm just going to have forty winks. You'll stay put, won't you?"

yes, yes, guard Charles, yes

Erik might be an osprey, but in some ways he hadn't changed. On this comforting thought he fell asleep. He was woken from a lovely dream - where he turned into a kestrel and they soared through the sky together - by something slapping him in the face. It was cold and wet and slimy. It was a fish. A big white and gold fish.

Oh, fuck! Charles had forgotten about the koi-carp pond.

caught fish for Charles, big fish, we mate now, Charles lay eggs

The fish flapped a couple more times then expired. Charles heard angry shouts. A group of enraged park officials were running towards them.

"Leg it!"

He sprinted across the grass, out of the park, across the road - cars honked and screeched to a halt - and didn't stop until he was almost at the apartment. Erik soared above him. The last time he'd run that fast he'd been trying out for the track team. He got into the lift. Erik hopped in beside him. He was still clutching the fish.

Charles got himself a glass of water and collapsed on the sofa. Erik settled in next to him, still clinging to that bloody fish.

"Honestly, you're a menace. Those koi-carp cost hundreds of pounds. Plus it's city property. You thief, you. Anyone would think you were a magpie."

Erik plonked the fish on Charles' lap.

you eat, eat fish, big fish, we mate

"Tell you what, you eat the fish, then you'll have plenty of strength for mating."

yes, Erik eat fish, big fish, be strong, mate long time, give Charles eggs

He tore into the fish, spattering scales, flesh and bones all over the sofa. Charles was becoming inured to the furniture being destroyed. There were massive claw marks over everything.

When they went to bed, Erik started making these soft churring noises. He groomed Charles' hair with his beak. He tried to pull Charles' teeshirt off with his talons.

"What are you doing?"

mate now, make eggs, mate with Charles, love Charles

Charles teared up a bit. He rubbed the soft feathers of Erik's chest. He loved that.

"Oh, darling, I'm sorry, it just wouldn't work. I'm a human and you're a bird. But it's a lovely thought and I promise as soon as you are human again we are going to mate ourselves stupid."

Erik looked a bit crestfallen. He snuggled up against Charles, who kissed his downy head.

Charles was woken by strong hands sliding over his back and buttocks. One worked its way round to his cock and gave his morning wood a gentle stroke.

Mmm, Erik, that's lovely. When we're done I'll tell you about this weird dream I had.

He turned over. Erik looked and smelt rather grubby. His breath stank of fish.

"Erik!" squealed Charles and embraced his husband with startling fervour.

They made love for hours. A ferocious quickie to start with, followed by tender, languid, luxurious lovemaking. Charles made Erik brush his teeth first though. When they were done and covered in sweat and come and Charles had a delicious ache in his arse and Erik was covered with scratches and bite marks, Erik said:

"Do you think we've made eggs?"

Charles laughed and tickled him. Erik was the ticklish one, not Charles. Everyone always thought it was the other way round, but they were wrong. Erik screamed and begged and pleaded. Then Charles made him scream and beg and plead for a very different reason.

Hank and Raven came over a few days later. Raven thought it was hilarious. Hank couldn't stop apologising. While she was in the bathroom he said:

"And it was Raven's fault really. She came over to the labs and persuaded me to have, ah, er, um . . . "

Charles smile hardened.

"She persuaded you to have sex in the lab and that's when the serum got spilled. That's disgraceful, Hank. Unbelievably poor lab hygiene. Appalling scientific practice."

Hank looked crushed.

Charles relented.

"I'm sorry, Hank, I don't really blame you. Raven could persuade a saint to sin."

We had sex in the lab, on top of the giant centrifuge. The vibrations were amazing, projected Erik. 

We didn't spill any dangerous chemicals.

No. I melted an autoclave though.

It was an old one, it had never really worked properly.

Later that evening, when Raven and Hank had gone home, Erik said:

"I'm not surprised it was Raven's fault."

"Me nether."

Erik's lips curved into the smile Charles loved, the smile that sent everyone else running for the emergency exit. 

"Raven by name, Raven by nature."

Charles stared at his husband.

"She's my sister, I couldn't."

"Remember that time she dyed you blue and it took a whole month to wear off?"

Charles' eyes narrowed.

"Hmm, perhaps I could. Of course, it might not even work on her."

"Why don't we find out?"

One week later, after a raid on Hank's lab - breaking and entering was so easy when your husband was a metallokinetic - Raven was perched on top of a wardrobe, cawing furiously at them.

"What's that you say Raven, "Nevermore"?" said Charles.

Erik laughed himself sick, until a beak hit him in the groin.


End file.
